16 Months
by miss.sprinkles
Summary: A What-If story. What if Mark Darcy is still alive? What happens somewhere in the middle of the desert? Will he be able to return to his family? Luckily he is not alone and finds friends even in the darkest of moments. Book Universe, set before MATB, AU, OC is involved.
1. Chapter 1

I don´t own any of the characters, besides my own. Roughly based on the happenings in MATB, for those who don´t read it (can totally understand why) here comes just a short summary: Mark is heading to a travelling job not long after Mabel´s birth -that´s it...won´t go into details of the book.

All typos are mine, so are the grammar mistakes. If you stumble across anything please don´t hesitate to inform me.

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 **First Chapter** **, in which Mark makes a cruel discovery but wins a new friend**

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He barely could see anything in the dark room of the small shed he was lead to. It was dusty and the air was muggy. He could hardly breathe. They closed the door and someone shouted something in an Arabic language.

Slowly his eyes got used to the minimum of light which fell through a small rectangle hole in the wall. In the middle of the room he could identify a small wooden table, probably not higher as his knee. He turned to his right and felt his way along the wall to the edge he could detect. Suddenly a sickening smell fulfiled the air.

"I would stop if I were you." A sudden voice warned him. He stopped and tried to figure out who had spoken to him. It was clearly a woman according to the sound. "May I ask why and above all where _you_ are?" he asked trying to keep his voice low. He could hear someone rise in the opposite corner and walking in his direction. Suddenly two pair of small hands touched him and led him away from the horrible smell. She led him below the window and finally he could see his opponent.

It was a young woman, maybe 23 or 25 years old. She had dark brown hair which was short cut and stuck out in all directions. A broad smile formed on her face.  
"Finally some company. Sorry that I didn´t introduced myself. I am Emilia Fischer. Nice to meet you, in spite of the unfortunate circumstances in which we are." He nodded. "Darcy, Mark Darcy." She nodded too.

"Excuse me Emilia," he asked not quite sure he got her surname right. "Where are we and why are we here." She sighted and dropped herself down on the floor. She gestured him to do the same and Mark sat down on the sandy floor.  
"I assume you are here because of the same reasons as I am, maybe because you have some important information for them or about them. Or you are useful in another way, even just being a hostage."

Despite the hot air a cold shiver ran down his spine. "Hostage?" he tried to understand but clearly he still missed some pieces.

Emilia looked at him. "How did you come here Mark?"  
"A Jeep. It should pick me up and bring me to the airport but we were separated from the other group. So we drove to this camp and…" Knowledge trickled slowly and tenaciously into his consciousness, disgusting and sticky like tar. Emilia looked at him commiserative. "I was tricked. They were tricked. We were tricked! I must warn them." He jumped up. How could he have been so naïve? He was a bloody barrister and should have seen the signs. "How do I get out of here?" His heart started to pound as if it would jump out of his chest and his breaths would start to get short and unsteady.

Emilia pulled him down and took his face into her hands. "Mark look at me!" She commanded. "You are having a panic attack. You need to calm down. We are counting together. On one you are breathing in and on three you release your breath." She started counting and Mark breathed according to her counting. When his breathing started to normalise Emilia let him go and leaned her head against the white wall closing her eyes.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I assume your friends are already dead. At least thats what happened with my group. And there is no way out of this room except for this little door." She nodded towards the door he came in.  
It seemed like hours ago since he entered this shed, and so probably his worst nightmare.

"May I ask a question?" Mark said looking at the young woman next to him. She nodded. "How long have you been in here?"

She opened her eyes and stared into the distance. "I dont know maybe three months, maybe half a year, maybe even more. I tried to count the days but its hard to keep track you know." Suddenly he felt a tear rolling down his cheek. He tried to wipe it away but more tears started tow flow. He would probably never see his wife or his children. How could he leave them? How was he able to leave his family when his family was his world? Emilia hugged him tightly.  
"Its okay, as long as you dont lose your hope you´re still alive." He calmed down slowly. "How?" he asked. Emilia shrugged. "You just keep going. I mean at the beginning it is pretty easy and you start trying to find a way to escape. And then it just starts to be an endless fight against the doubt. I just kept thinking of my loved ones. That helped." Mark nodded. He leaned his head against the wall and both of them stared into nothing thinking about their situation.

They sat together on the dusty ground in a pleasant silence, busy with their own thoughts. Mark though about Bridget and how this could have happened. He regretted leaving her so early after the birth and he regretted that he hadnt told her more often how much he loved her and how much she and their children meant to him.

"Okay tell me about yourself Mark." Emilia said, tearing him from his thoughts. "Well, you already know my name. I am a human rights lawyer and I live in the UK together with my wife and my children. What about you? Why are you here?" he tried to keep his personal information as little as possible. He still didnt knew how well he could trust her. Sure shes been helpful and all. But that could also be a disguise.  
"Let me see where I begin. I am a journalist. Well actually the assistant of a journalist who wrote for a German magazine. I am living in Germany and have no kids but quite a few godchildren. How I end up here? My story is similar to yours. We were on our way to the next city, he, the journalist that is, wanted to update the magazine and had an important TV appearance for the news. But we never got there. They took us both as hostages and killed the soldiers who were in our vehicle. Eventually they beheaded him and a few other journalists who were here. I was forced to upload the video clip of it, into the internet...maybe that is the reason why I am still here. Still useful. "She laughed a joyous laugh. "So you are coming from Germany?" Mark asked. Emilia nodded. "Very obvious because of the last name" she said. Mark chuckled and said: "Certainly not because of the accent. Your English is very well, I though you would come from maybe Sweden or Norway." Emilia blushed. "Thank you. It took me quite a while until I managed the `th´." She laughed. "Luckily I always had good English teachers." "And where exactly do you live in Germany?" Mark asked. "Used to live in the southern part, you know…Bavaria where every river contains beer and everyone is dressed in Lederhosen, but I moved to Berlin, due to the job." "You are kidding?" asked Mark.  
He never been directly in Bavaria but he couldnt imagine that it was like this. "Yes I am" Emilia smiled. ". Even some Germans believed me when I said that but it´s just funny to shock everyone with this and humour is very important in here." Mark laughed. "And where exactly are you living in the UK? I mean its still a big country." Emilia asked. "London." Mark answered. "Ever been there?" Emilia shook her head and said: "Unfortunately not. But it is still on my list of places I would love to see." Mark smiled. "Maybe one day you have the possibility."

Emilia smiled too. "Maybe."


	2. Chapter 2

So here comes part two. Sorry for taking my time with updating, I have come up with a new writing schedule which will hopefully help me to update more regularly.

If you stumble upon any typos or grammar mistakes, please let me know. Also thank you for all your wonderful reviews and encouraging words. I loved reading them and it was really helpful.

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 **Second Chapter, in which Mark worries a lot and must overcome himself.**

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In the very first night Mark had trouble falling asleep. He worried about his family, the future and his situation kept him awake and turning and tossing around on the dirty floor of the shed. Eventually he fell asleep but his thoughts always wandered back to his biggest sorrow, Bridget.

Mark was standing in front of the delivery room, watching Bridget cooing over the new-born. He could see William carefully peeking over the bed until Bridget helped him up. He observed Bridget and Billy taking care of the little bundle. His whole body felt warm and fuzzy while looking at this scene and he had never felt happier. He wanted to enter the room and be part of that happy family, be part of his family, but when he tried to open the door but it didn't work. He pushed and pulled as hard as he could but the door was shut close and he only could watch his family through the little window. Suddenly the lights started to jitter and Bridget looked around with a sad look on her face, unlike any expression of her he had ever seen before.  
He could see how tears started to fall down her perfectly, perfectly cheeks and how she quickly wiped them away.  
He could see how Billy's face went from happy to anxious to serious and he suddenly looked so much older.  
He could see Mabel's little face forming into a wail.  
He wanted to get in there, tell them he was okay, he was alive, he would be there for them but he couldn't.  
He started to bang against the door and tried to open it with anything he had, screaming and yelling for help and Bridget.

A cold hand woke him up, shaking him hardly. "Shut up!" someone shushed. It was Emilia. "Stop screaming or we are having a lot of trouble, which will be worth your screams." The way she said it implied that she already experienced such a situation. He sat up und lead himself against the dry wall running his hands over his face.  
"What is going on?" Emilia asked and he could see her worried look.

"I had a nightmare." He said dryly, trying to forget the pictures which were burned in his brain. "I guess it's because of all the happenings." "Do you want to talk about it?" Emilia offered. Mark shook his head, he wasn't the type of guy who talked about his feelings openly.  
It took long enough until he felt comfortable enough to talk about it with Bridget.

Mark awoke when someone knocked hardly against the door. Then someone entered the small shed and threw something on the small table in the middle of the room. Then that person left and the two were alone again. Emilia raised her head: "I guess we just got our breakfast." She stood up. On the table laid a large piece of pitta bread. She ripped it apart and gave him one half. Mark grabbed it at started to eat.

"I've got a rather embarrassing question to ask." Mark started. He couldn't find the right words to form that quite humanly problem to explain his needs to such a young woman. After all it took him long enough to propose to his Bridget although he knew her for almost his whole life. Emilia looked at him. "Yes?" Mark blushed a little. "Where or how do you fulfil certain needs which occur from time to time due to the process of digestion?" Emilia looked at him and then she started to laugh. "You need to use the bathroom?" Mark nodded and turned another shade redder. Emilia looked at him and stopped laughing.

"Remember yesterday? You came to that corner," she pointed to the furthest corner of the dusty room. "This is the place where the magic happens or shortly said our toilet." Mark looked at her in disbelief and felt a wave of nausea sweep over him. "We just shit into the corner? What about the smell or the level of hygiene? We could get sick!" Emilia took a bit of her bread. "We are at the very bottom of the chain Mark. For them we are nothing worth than the information connected to us. But for your pacification they come and take the big stuff away. After a few days..."  
Mark felt the urge to throw up but resisted, the smell afterwards wouldn't be quite helpful. "I can turn around...If you need to use it right now." Emilia proposed diplomatic. "That would be more than polite and helpful." Mark said, smiling thankful. Emilia ripped a bit of her already destroyed trousers away. "For afterwards" she said and gave it Mark.

Mark Darcy then went to do the most embarrassing thing he ever did in his life and it was a nightmare. He couldn't think of something more embarrassing to soothe his brain. Not even that time when he had to face Daniel Cleaver in the hallway before he signed the papers which would legally end his first marriage.

It must have been around lunchtime when they got food for the second time. It was just like the first time barely enough to sate both of them.

"So this is how we´ll spend the rest of the time. Waiting until we get food and sleep through the night? We don't have to do anything?" Mark asked, chewing on his bread.  
"It depends on the political situation out there. We should consider us as lucky right now, because either there are no shootings nearby or they are currently very successful in overtaking a city." She nibbled on her bread. "Last time they feared they would loose a street battle to the Army, they took one of us and forced him to be a suicide attacker. After that, the rest of the world became more careful and waited. And one time when Russia became to 'uncomfortable' for them, they released a killing video of 20 hostages from all over the world."

Mark looked worriedly at her. He had seen parts of the video which were all over the news, those few were already shocking and horrible, seeing the slaughter of so many innocents.

Emilia ran her hands over her face. "It was horrible, afterwards they forced me to upload it and I cried the whole time. I'll never forget these pictures." Mark patted her should in a heartening way. At least he hoped so.

When it dawned Mark asked him self when he would be able to see his family again. And he was wondering if he would spend every day like this; sitting on the dirty floor, eating pita bread and talking to Emilia or if there would be something else happening.

Little did Mark know that excitement was just waiting for him...not in a good way.


	3. Chapter 3

Part three has made its way from head to paper...virtually. Thanks to the nice reviews I love reading them and I cant wait to read more. I hope you enjoy this part. by the way...writing schedule hasnt helped anything but I try to update more often. Again, all typos are mine if you find anything like grammar mistakes or similar please pm me :)

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 **Third Chapter, in which we are visiting good old Britain and taking a look at the turbulent life of Mrs Bridget Darcy**

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Google Search History:

\- _How to tell your kids their father was kidnapped by terrorist organisation_

\- _Self-help books about telling your kids father was kidnapped by terrorist organisation_

\- _My husband is kidnapped somewhere in middle east, how tell my kids?_

\- _Help husband kidnapped tell kids how?_

\- _Husband kidnapped what say kids?_

\- _Husband kidnaolghtkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk_

Bridget was desperate. She had never expected to find herself in such a situation. And nobody could help her or give any advise. What didn't mean that they didn't try it.

She remembered painfully detailed the day Magda and Jeremy arrived at her door, a policemen behind them and the look on their faces. She was thinking at the worst hoping, for the best while she was holding her children close to her, trying to calm Mable down.

Bridget was covered in a mixture between baby puke, snot and Billys mashed potatoes but it didnt matter. All that mattered was the news the brought. Magda went upstairs taking care of the children while Jeremy and the policeman explained the situation and what the authorities planned to do.

"Don't tell them at all." Shazzer said plainly and emptied the rest of her coffee.

They were all sitting together in the living room; Bridget was chewing on her lower lip.

"What if Billy asks questions?"

"Tell them Mark is on an adventure...just like James Bond." Jude suggested.

"They are too young to know James Bond."

"Tell them the cotton wrapped truth." Tom.

"But what if they cant handle it. What if they will experience real damage caused by the shock?"

"Bridget, pull yourself together and do it for gods sake." Miranda said downing her chardonnay. "Do we have more wine?"

She sighted. "Ill do it tomorrow, I am going to make pancakes for breakfast and tell them."

All this had been two weeks ago.

Luckily Mable was too little to understand everything but Billy had looked at her with big eyes and asked: "Will Dada come back?" Bridget had answered, that she didnt knew but that she was certain they would see him again.

This was the first time she had lied to her children although she had sworn to herself to never ever do that, but she couldnt tell Billy that she wasnt certain at all and was even more afraid that those terrorists would kill Mark and post it on the internet like they did with those poor journalists.

The first two days were stressful; a lot of people were calling in to see if she needed any help or good advices, after the first few Bridget refused to pick of the phone and everything went straight to the voice mail. Her mum called and had surprisingly few words ready. "Bridget I am so sorry to hear about Mark. I am thinking all the time about it. If you need some time for yourself, please let me know. I am more than happy to take care of Billy and Mable. And please call me more often I am worried."

Elaine came over and they cried together downstairs in the living room while the children were asleep.

The days after that went by in a misty cloud and Bridget couldnt remember what she did or how she did it.

And then the normal daily routine settled in.

Of course her days had been filled with the busy chores she had. Feeding the children, buying food; keep going, keep buggering on was the recurring slogan in her head.

But the nights were horrible, the moments when she was lying awake, worrying about Mark and his wellbeing, dreadful and the seconds she was drowsily feeling for the warm body of Mark next to hers, just to actually touch the cold sheet of her bed, painful.

Currently she was googleing for the meeting groups for " _Victims (and their relatives) of terrorist attacks_ ". Tom had informed her about that, because he heard from a friend of a friend, who went to the same gay gym class -some sort of yoga and other stretching techniques- about them. Maybe they could help her to gain more hope. Or confidence or whatever she needed right now at the moment.

Unfortunately the Google search only listed self-help groups in the States but Bridget was determined not to stop.

Instead she even promised herself to ask Magda if Jeremy knew anything about that, due to the fact that the chambers had a few cases involving similar scenarios.

"Mommy can I go and see Dada?" Billy interrupted her unsuccessful search and pulled at her trousers. She picked him up, sat him on her lap and stroke over his thick brown curls which were so alike Marks.

"I am sorry Billy, but Daddy is very, very far away and I dont even know where exactly. And it is very dangerous where he is."

She pressed a kiss on his forehead and hugged him tightly. "Dangerous like that lake where the crocodiles were? In the zoo? Dada became angry when I leaned over."

Bridget had to chuckle a little bit. "Yes, even more dangerous than that Billy."

She remembered the trip to the zoo vividly.

It was one of the last big trips they did before Mable was born. Billy wanted to spot a crocodile at all costs and leaned over the balustrade of the compound.

Mark who was talking to her at that moment startled and pulled angrily him away giving him a very parental speech about the need and use of balustrades in zoos and what could have happened if Billy lost his balance and feel down into the water of the compound.

She could tell that Mark was secretly so frightened that in his inner eye he could still see the single blood drops of his son while he was mangled by the sharp teeth of the crocodile. After Billy had to promise not to do something like that ever again and was allowed to watch the parrots Mark was still shaking. She stroke over his back reassuringly said simply: "Well done Daddy Bear" and placed a simple kiss on his lips which made him smile.

A few hours later after Billy and Mable drifted off to sleep, Bridget thought about the idea looking for Mark by herself. He had done the same thing for her years ago when she was imprisoned in Thailand but it was also a different situation. She pushed that thought away and went back to doing the laundry.

But that thought was still creeping around in the back of her head, supported by all the other little thoughts which were gathering about the one big topic; Mark.


	4. Chapter 4

And finally I got my (careful language) *ass* back to the keyboard. Again blah blah blah not mine blah blah blah sorry for any mistakes (just look at the first chapter...everything is explained there). Let´s rush into it, shall we?

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 **Fourth Chapter, in which Mark gets a lovely surprise and sheds some tears.**

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"Dada" his three year old son screeched and ran into his arms.  
He just entered his home and was still in his jacket but he didn´t care. He picked his son up and threw him into the air.  
It felt like an eternity since he has last hold him, but it were actually just two days he hadn´t been at home. He had to fly to Paris for a meeting of human rights barristers. Luckily the meeting was earlier over so he took the next plane and got back to London.

Bridget came downstairs smiling happily. Her hair was in a messy bun and in his opinion she looked beautiful.  
While he held Billy with his left arm he pulled Bridget into an embrace with his left.  
She looked up into his face. "Glad you´re back, it was a chaotic time without you."  
She stood on her toes and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.  
"The meeting was stressful and I am so glad to be home. I´ve missed you two." Bridget smiled and took Billy from him."I missed you too. Come on, dinner is waiting."With that she went downstairs.  
Mark chuckled and kicked off his shoes and placed them carefully in the shoe rack.  
Bridget´s and Billy´s shoes were on a messy pile right in front of it. He sat down his small suitcase and hung his jacket in the wardrobe. Then he followed his wife downstairs.  
A surprisingly delicious smell wafted through the kitchen.

"I made Shepherd's pie, well that was left over from yesterday. I hope you don´t mind." Bridget said and placed the casserole on the table.  
Billy already sat on his high chair ready to eat whatever would be placed on the table. Mark also sat down and Bridget started to serve their plates.  
He took suspiciously a small bite and was surprised when it tasted extremely good. "Don´t worry…the housekeeper prepared everything, all I had to do was put it in the oven. I am perfectly capable of doing that." Bridget said, looking at him, pouting. "I wasn´t doubting your cooking abilities," Mark tried to cover his behaviour. "I was just trying to test how hot the food is." He looked at Bridget who was still looking. "Listen, darling I am sorry if I hurt you in any way. It tastes delicious."  
Bridget´s pout turned slowly into a smile and suddenly she started laughing. Even Billy started sqeaking in joy. "Oh you old fool; I was just messing with you. I know my cooking lacks some talent." She leand over and kissed him on the cheek, which was comented by Billy with a `uhrgh´ and started eating.  
Mark smiled but he could feel his ears turning red, a little bit embarrassed that he believed her.  
"So how was your meeting?" Bridget asked. "Very good, we had some important discussions and some very interesting speeches. I was able to arrange a skype-consultation of Mister Mertens; he is a lawyer from Belgium. He is looking on my current case, you know, the one with the refugee from India." Bridget nodded swallowing a bite and taking a sip of her water. "And of course everybody was asking me about the `Punani-Case´." They chuckled, both recalling the huge demonstration while they were rushing to the hospital.

After Mark brought Billy to bed, the little man requested it and Mark fulfilled this wish happily, Mark and Bridget sat at their terrace on the outdoor chairs.  
It was one of those warm August nights Mark always spend as a kid stargazing.  
"What do you say about you and me having a nice glass of red wine, or white wine for you?" Mark proposed. Bridget, who had looked into the night sky, seemed absent. "Huh?"  
"Wine? For you and me?" Mark was standing in front of her, waiting for her answer. She looked at him. "Not for me but you can have one, if you want."  
"Bridget says no to wine? Impossible. Are you sick? Is something wrong? Shall I make you a tea or something?" He stopped because Bridget had started to laugh again.  
She laughed really hard and even started to cry. He felt like there was some secret joke only he didn´t understand. _Wouldn´t be the first time_ , he thought grimly.

Bridget stood up and wiped away her tears. Then she came closer and kissed him. Mark still didn´t understand why she was acting so strangely.  
"Oh god Mark, you are so adorable."  
She took his face in her hands and looked him straight in the eye.  
"Nothing is wrong, everything, absolutely everything is perfectly fine. I am just not allowed to drink alcohol right now or for the next nine months actually."  
Mark still didn´t understand but there was a warm feeling in his chest which grew faster.

"Mark I am pregnant again." Bridget whispered, only inches away from his face.

And suddenly only her face, her pretty, pretty face with the small wrinkles around her eyes, which made her incredibly sexy in his opinion, mattered. And the warm feeling which spread all over his body.

She was pregnant, again. Again!

And this time he didn´t had to worry about the future because everything was perfectly laid out. He would be a father again.  
He closed the space between their lips and kissed her passionately. When they pulled breathlessly apart Bridget looked at him.  
"Are you happy?" she asked. He grinned like a mad man and stroke over her cheek. "Darling I am positively surprised and probably the happiest man alive."  
He hugged her tightly and whispered: "Bridget Darcy I love you."

Mark wiped away a tear which rolled down his cheek. He glanced over his shoulder to the corner where Emilia was sleeping. The slim body of the young women was at the same position. He didn´t want her to see how he cried. But the memory of that particular evening just sprung into his mind and he could help himself but get lost in it. Every inch of his body wanted to get back to this memory, forget this dark and dusty room. He couldn´t find any sleep and this wasn´t the first night he had spent sitting on the table living in his memories. Actually he couldn´t recall when he had slept for the last time. It didn´t matter anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

**Fifth chapter, in which Bridget makes acquaintance with an unknown hope.**

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It has been four months.  
Mark was missing for four months.

Surprisingly the most help she had received at the beginning was by Elaine, Mark´s mother. Bridget had told her more than hundred times that she surely wanted to have some time for herself, it was also her son who was missing. But Elaine just always said: "Darling, having a family is the biggest support system you could ever wish for." And then she just walked away doing the laundry or started cooking or doing something else.  
It wasn´t that Bridget didn´t needed the help. Besides her part-time job at Hard News (yes, she came back, shortly after Richard had defended her and brought her back) she spend a lot of time talking to people of the government or the military, who all were busy with finding Mark, but were also unsuccessful so far. Then she also had received a lot of cards from various people who knew Mark.  
Still after four months they didn´t got less.

"Something new about Mark?" Miranda asked her when she arrived at work. She shook her head sadly which caused Miranda to hug her tightly. "Listen, what do you say...you, Shazzer, Tom, Jude and me going out tonight, just like the old days. Having a fabulous dinner to ease your mind…let´s say Gianni´s?" she looked at Bridget´s slim figure. Since Mark was kidnapped she had lost almost 2 stones.  
Her friends had told her that she looked thin, almost too unhealthy thin, considered the fact that she was still breast feeding Mable.

"Sorry I can´t I have an late appointment for the new intern. You know, because of the new show that is coming up." Miranda nodded knowingly but still looked worried. They parted and Bridget continued her way to her office.

When she sat down in her large office chair her view fell onto the picture of Mark.  
It was a rather new one; she could already see some of his grey strands, taken last summer when they visited Grafton Underwood. It was an extremly hot day so Malcolm and Mark had filled up the large paddling pool. Billy couldn´t wait till the water was fully in and started to run around jumping in and out of the pool. She had been pregnant for about 6 months and had started a water fight with her son which Mark gladly joined. It had been one of those summer days one would always remember.

But now she had to fear for her husband´s life without having a sign or a word of his whereabouts.

She had worked in the late afternoon and long hours lately to avoid the moment of getting home. Not that she wouldn´t want to get home to her kids but the emptiness that filled her heart as soon as she stepped into the house was unbearable. Even after four months she had to struggle. Mark was a part of her heart, her soul, her personality, a part without she just couldn´t live.

There was a knock on the door and Brittany her new secretary entered. "Uhm Bridget? The new intern is here, I think her name is…eh Lucy King. I told her to wait because she is 15 minutes earlier." she asked while chewing her probably 100th chewing gum of the day.  
"It´s alright, send her in please." Bridget said, sitting upright and brushing a few wrinkles out of her blouse.  
Brittany nodded and pushed the door open.

A young woman, maybe in her early 20ties entered the room. She had dark blonde hair and a round face. "Miss King, nice to meet you, my name is Bridget Jones-Darcy. Please sit down."  
Bridget said and pointed at the chair on the other side of her desk. "Nice to meet you too." The young woman answered and sat down.

"So Miss King you applied on the offer as an intern here at Hard News. I have overlooked your CV and I have to admit that I am impressed." The girl seemed to be flattered. "Thanks, it just kind of happened. My father has worked in the TV business for a long time. He was a freelance journalist." Bridget nodded and smiled friendly.  
"So Miss King, tell me why you are interested in working here at Hard News?" she asked. "Well, I really like the way that Hard News is broadcasting news. It´s quite refreshing actually." The young woman answered and chuckled. "It makes it just easier to follow the news and it is even fun to watch it. Other networks may be more serious but in my opinion it just makes your morning depressing." Bridget nodded and scribbled something very unimportant on a post it to seem professional. It was the word `coffee´.  
She actually had no clue why she had to do this interview. The girl seemed interested in news, even more than her and was more than qualified for the job.

"So Miss King, as an intern here you would have to work to very irregular hours, could that become a problem?" Bridget asked, remembering the checklist Richard had given her and that vanished inexplicably the moment she stepped a foot into her office; ask her about working hours, making coffee and researching in the old archives his voice echooed in her head. "Wouldn´t be a problem. I live close by and have a bike. No traffic can stop me." The young woman rambled nervously. Bridget nodded again and again scribbled something on the post-it. This time it said `eggs´...apparently her shopping list. "You also would have to do research in the old archive are you familiar with the handling of a video player and tapes?" Bridget remembered the very old tape of her broadcasting the Aghani-Heaney case together ith Mark. Bridget felt a lump in her throat forming and cleared her throat.

"Miss King I think Hard News would be glad to welcome such a qualified employee as you are. Congratulations you are the new intern." Bridget said and smiled, trying to look approving and somewhat encouraging. "Really? Like for real? Oh my god, that is so wonderful. Thanks!" Miss King seemed to be overjoyed. She shook Bridget´s hand. "Well Miss King, you will receive your contract tomorrow morning, just ask Brittany outside for the details. And then I will see you next Monday bright and early." Miss King nodded and had a huge grin on her face. "Thank you so much. I won´t disappoint you…" "I believe you, now have a nice evening Miss King." Bridget interrupted her and guided her outside.

Almost an hour later, Bridget started gathering her things and left the building. Of course at that moment she didn´t knew how helpful Miss Lucy King would be.

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Thanks for your patience, I had a very stressful time and had a lot of change in the past months but now I am baaack *grinning madly*

Hope you like it, please don´t be shy and leave a review.


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